


Friendly Game

by fencer_x



Category: K Project
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-21
Updated: 2012-10-21
Packaged: 2017-11-16 18:07:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/542312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fencer_x/pseuds/fencer_x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>King hunt - A sustained attack on the enemy king that results in the king being driven a far distance from its initial position, typically resulting in its checkmate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friendly Game

Reishi tells himself that _at least it's better than keeping Suoh in a constant, drugged stupor_.

Part of him thinks doing so would have violated Suoh's humanity, his human _rights_ , but a deeper, stronger part of him realizes it's only that he could never do _that_ to another King--there are just some lines he won't cross, and given the respect he commands and demands as a King himself, it would be nothing short of hypocritical of him to deny another the same.

And hypocrisy is far from pure, far from just. Far from anything the Blue throne stands for.

So he stands here at the threshold of Suoh's cell, Awashima's admonishments still ringing in his ear that _it's not right for you to place yourself in harm's way like this, Sir_ , along with the flush that had stained her cheeks when he'd chastised her for doubting that anything he might choose to do would ultimately be for the greater good, that he knew well what he was doing, and that perhaps she should go relieve whoever was on scanner duty for a few hours--the most exemplary of his subordinates, his second in command...had been unable to refuse his subtle order.

It's dark--but then, it's always dark here in the hold, and he wonders if Suoh is even remotely conscious of how long he's been locked up down here, or if he just stays lying here, back to the cell door, unmoving...plotting, or reflecting--he's never quite sure what to make of Suoh when all he can take in is the long, unbroken line of his back. Reishi reads men in their features, their actions, and Suoh generally speaks volumes in both respects, but of late...he's proven _intractable_.

Reishi has ways of dealing with intractability, though.

Suoh doesn't twitch, doesn't move a muscle at the clanging sound of the cell door disengaging, doesn't glance up at the sound of Reishi's boots clopping on the cold concrete, doesn't even seem to be _alive_ until these sounds subside to soft whispers, rustling of silk against itself, the brushing of thick, brocaded cloth falling in heavy folds as Reishi hangs his coat on a hook by the door.

"You shouldn't have come here without your sword, Munakata."

He stops himself before he snaps back something smooth and biting along the lines of _what makes you think I've come unarmed?_ He's not here to rile up Suoh--quite the opposite, his intentions are to bank the fire running wild and hot within the Red King, because much more of this and Suoh won't be able to hold himself back even if he wants to. This cell may be confining Suoh's body--for now--but they're neither one of them under the impression that Suoh would be here if he didn't choose to be on some level. 

And why he chooses to be is, in and of itself, a matter of curiosity, concern even. Perhaps that's why Reishi's resorting to tactics such as this.

Or perhaps he's just realized that the only person he'll ever be able to be anything less than a King before is another King.

The clinking as he unlaces his belt is accompanied by the jingle of Suoh's chains as he shifts around, arms limp before him in their stocks and legs casually splayed, the picture of relaxation comically juxtaposed against a backdrop of restriction, and Reishi has to fight an amused quirk of his lips, especially when he entertains the notion that Suoh's looking for just that reaction. Suoh knows what he looks like, knows what Reishi sees, and knows how to manipulate a situation to his favor. He knows how to play Reishi, and it's both exhilarating and frightening, neither of which are emotions suited to the Blue King. 

When he unsnaps the top button at his throat, sliding off the silk scarf, he catches the first glimmer of interest in Suoh's eye as clearly as a flash of light off of his earring, and his blood starts to run a bit hotter with the thrill of imminent victory. Perhaps Suoh recognizes the same, for he cocks his head and mutters in his low, ashy voice, "Surely one of your own clan would be up for such an honor. I can't imagine any would refuse their King and force him to dirty himself with a prisoner, right Munakata?"

He allows himself the freedom of a sharp smirk now, because Suoh's gone and shown his hand and now they can get down to business--because that's what this is: business. "If you think I've the time or desire for casual dalliances with my subordinates, perhaps you're too far gone to save already."

Suoh snorts derisively at _save_ , and Reishi frowns inside; a natural disaster waiting to happen--that's what his own subordinates call their King, and Suoh's ostensible death wish, his inability--or refusal--to comprehend the consequences of refusing abdication are proving worrisome as his Weissman levels continue to rocket into the stratosphere with each encounter between HOMRA and Scepter 4. 

Perhaps Suoh doesn't want to be rescued; Reishi could, in all honesty, not give a shit what he _wants_. He respects the throne; the man on it...he's not so sure just at the moment.

He lines his boots up neatly against the wall, backed up flush against the concrete underneath the hook his coat hangs from, before gently removing his glasses and folding the legs to slip them inside the right boot and keep them from being crushed. A gentle breeze, crisp and biting underneath, floats through the cell window and draws goosebumps along Reishi's exposed flesh; this is hardly where he would choose to do this, but Suoh is Suoh and he is himself; Kings though they may be, they'll have to rut like paupers.

In a flash, like a lightning strike, Suoh snaps his hands out when Reishi draws within range, nimbly looping his fingers through Reishi's belt loops to jerk him forward the final few paces, and Reishi must clamp down on the urge to go for a sword he doesn't have on him, knowing this would only thrill Suoh even more. The chains jangle again as Suoh rattles them for show, a gleam in his eye. "...So _this_ is what you came up with? This is how you plan to keep me submissive and compliant 'til you decide I'm more trouble than it's worth and slit my throat? The famed _justice_ of the Blue King..." The grin that plays across his lips is at seeming odds with the biting commentary he spouts, and Reishi calmly reaches down, squeezing Suoh's fingers until they risk breaking before easing them away.

"You're already more trouble than you're worth, Suoh. I'll thank you not to get the wrong idea." He finishes off the buttons on his dress shirt, pulling it off and shifting to hang it with his coat, when Suoh catches him with a tug on the loose fabric of his breeches. 

"Leave something for me to strip off," he wheedles in a voice that's soft and amused and dangerous in its attraction, and Reishi is not for the first time reminded of the phrase _moth to a flame._

__He releases a soft snort before shaking off Suoh's grip, hanging his shirt up and brushing it down to remove wrinkles. "I should think even the Red King would find that difficult with his hands bound thus."

Suoh _hmm_ s in agreement. "That's why you're gonna unlock me first."

Reishi raises a brow, because he certainly has been entertaining no such notions, but it's dangerous to brush off anything Suoh says as idle babble. "Am I, now?"

A nod. "Because you don't know how to keep me locked up forever--but you do know how to keep my power in check--" He shrugs ambivalently, "--or at least you think you do. And if you're like me and want to find out if you've succeeded or not...you'll exhaust _all_ options." He settles forward, elbows at his knees as he stares up at Reishi. "Fucking away my excess energy's gonna require you give me rein to do so. You're the Blue King--I would've thought you'd realize that."

And he had realized that, Reishi reasons with himself. "What makes you think my 'fucking' you, as you so crudely put it, will require you do any work at all?"

This just makes Suoh's lip curl all the more slyly. "Because. You need me to cooperate, need me to exhaust my own stores--which means you have to give me what I want, then."

"And that is?" It's not yielding ground to an opponent when it's a question you already know the answer to.

He simply raises his arms and jangles his chains again, raising a brow in silent reminder that Reishi that he's a King too, he should _know_ what any ruler wants: abject power over his enemies.

* * *

Any war has rules--were none established, it would be pure chaos on the battlefield, with no way of knowing when victory had been attained and when defeat suffered. Reishi is sharper with his boundaries here because he knows that if he doesn't shore them up solidly, Suoh will burn them to ash and barrel through, defeating the purpose of this entire exercise.

_No kissing_ \--this isn't 'making love' or any such nonsense, it's release and exhaustion and fine, _fucking_ if that's what Suoh wants to call it, and it has a purpose but no _meaning_. Suoh looks almost petulant for a brief flash before muttering, " _Fine_ ," and pressing his lips in a line down Reishi's neck, drawing patches of red in his wake that look frustratingly like burns. He's quite confident Suoh's flirted this rule on purpose.

_No doing it from behind_ \--Reishi's exposing himself to the enemy enough as it is, he'll be _damned_ if he turns his back on the guy as well. Even Suoh's teasing, " _What, wanna stare into my eyes when you come?_ " won't push him to change his mind, and when Suoh presses in with a stretching burn, he wonders if it's on purpose, revenge for Reishi doing his damnedest to ensure that this is as sterile, as _cold and dead_ as possible. He hopes so.

He'd considered demanding total silence throughout the act but relented at the last moment--short of gagging Suoh, this wasn't a regulation he could easily enforce, and Suoh delivering babbling commentary in no way requires that Reishi return the favor, so he has resigned himself to lying back, closing his eyes, and thinking of his puzzles. He's ordered a new 500-piece Tenshou Shuubun work that may well be waiting for him when he finish--

"You ever wonder what'd happen if I opened my Sanctum while I was inside you...?" Suoh grunts out a chuckle at the end, as if this is the most amusing notion he's entertained in a long while, and he slows his thrusts, as if he believes that perhaps Reishi's reticence is because he's just too overwhelmed with passion and sensation to make a sound.

Reishi purses his lips and lets his eyes flutter open, fixing Suoh with a glare. "No--as I know exactly what would happen: I'd slice your manhood off in short order."

Suoh just snorts with more genuinely fond amusement and renews his punishing pace, second wind catching on now that he's drawn a reaction from Reishi--and Reishi curses silently because _of course that's what he was trying to do_. "You can call it a 'dick', Your Highness. I promise not to tell anyone else their King has a filthy mouth." He leans in close, their noses almost touching, and Reish braces to keep himself from pulling back, trying to drown in the rough tatami mat beneath his back. "What're we doing, Munakata?" His voice is low and gravelly, laced with a slow laziness that belies the sleeping dragon within him, an inferno of power and violence and _emotion_ , far too much _rawness_ to entrust to one man, even a man as exceptional as the Red King.

When Suoh reaches between them, fingers curling hot and slick around Reishi, his protests die a swift death in his throat and he can only regret that he hadn't _No touching me_ to the list of stipulations. Advantage, Red King.

Reishi grimaces from combined bitter regret and unbidden passion, then locks Suoh between his legs to keep from being shoved into the wall. "You're--burning through...your stores of..."

"What are we _doing_ , Munakata?"

Reishi grits his teeth and clenches his fingers into fists, white-knuckled as he holds on tight to the thin white t-shirt Suoh's wearing, refusing anything thicker, even a moth-bitten blanket, against the bitter winds that buffet the bureau building. The thin leather strips of Suoh's bolo brush over his chest, tickling as it sways with each thrust, _tick tick tick_ like a bomb counting down. "To--keep your levels--in check--"

Suoh's grip tightens around him, fingers flying slick and feverish in perfect counter to his hips slamming forward. "Munakata-- _say it_."

"Fucking..."

" _Fucking_ ," Suoh repeats, something that sounds dangerously close to _relief_ laced in his voice, and Reishi slips one hand between them, over Suoh's own.

"Fuck... _you_..." he corrects, showing Suoh how he prefers to be touched, where to squeeze and where to gentle his grip, where to swipe a finger and where to glide free, slick and smooth with ever-increasing intensity and _shit_ Suoh's catching on, learning, working unbidden, and Reishi's losing ground, pawns going down left and right, his knights stiff and straining, locking Suoh against him but helpless to really _improve_ the situation. His bishops and rooks are miles away fighting their own battles, and his queen--he sent her away himself.

"Maybe next time, Munakata..." Suoh offers cheekily, pressing in with a sharp gasp as his climax washes over him, and the Red King's orgasm burns like lava, a cleansing fire that punishes from the inside out and forces Reishi into honesty, his body releasing what amounts to a white flag of surrender falling in milky droplets across his own stomach, his body a patchwork quilt now of red and white on a background of Blue.

When he steps out of the cell, fully clothed and unruffled once more, he'll be the Blue King, and he'll ask one of the others to check Suoh's levels, see if this has done a bit of good, or if it really was all just to satisfy his own high-handed morals--but right now, he's nude on his back with kissmarks and semen marring his complexion and the Red King growing soft inside him but refusing to retreat until so ordered. To the victor, Reishi supposes, and allows him to remain for a few moments longer--just until he catches his breath. He's not the Blue King right now--one confident in his place, in the _cause_ he serves would not so easily succumb to defeat or sink to such base tactics. 

He's sure there were supposed to be lines he didn't cross, is certain that when he walked in here, he respected himself as a King and Suoh in turn. Now all he has is the understanding that, somehow, after days of confinement, Suoh still smells faintly of cigarettes, and he allows himself a soft, maniacal chuckle at this realization.

"...What?"

And _oh_ , oh that almost makes it better: because in that single word, in the confusion and curiosity laden therein, Suoh's shown Reishi the chink in his armor, the cheap brass beneath the gold facade of his crown, and maybe they've both gotten what they want with this in the end.

He settles his arm over his eyes, trying not to smile in gleeful victory as he shakes his head. "Checkmate."


End file.
